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Geezers
Meta Timing: 3 October 2022, lunchtime Setting: Shed canteen, Jones' quarters Text Their seventh day in the Shatterdome Logan and Jackson risk a lunch outside their quarters. The canteen falls silent when they enter. Logan identifies the exits. Folks won't meet his eye and look away quickly. He strolls to the meal line, Jackson trying to be invisible in his shadow. People walking veer to avoid them and those in line move just beyond arms' reach. Word's gotten around. Logan snickers. The space bubble expands another foot or so in diameter. He rolls his eyes. Trays full, they make for the very edge of /''Vulcan Specter'' territory. The crew shuffles closer together—and farther from them—as he and Jackson walk by. One tech realizes where they're going, hisses something, and the tablemates flee from their place by the wall, tossing nervous looks over their shoulders. Logan snorts, pulls Jackson down beside him, and digs in. Jackson sighs and pokes at some salad. "Jack, you gotta eat." A noncommittal grunt. "I'm not carrying you back from the gym if you faint." That gets him a snort and Jackson a mouthful of lettuce. Logan nods and turns back to his meal. They've reached their brownies when a shadow falls across the them. Jackson pointedly ignores the source. Logan tenses. "/'You're' my backup?" sneers Chuck Hansen. Jackson nibbles his dessert. Logan tears his in half. "Command must be getting desperate if they rushed you through." Jackson's brownie is gone. Logan's is in quarters. "How old're you geezers, anyway?" Jackson sets his napkin and cutlery on his mostly empty tray, studies his hands. Logan's moved on to sixteenths. Chuck snorts. "You'll probably break hips on your first drop." Crosses his arms, puts his shoulders back. "You should be home playing with your grandki—" Jackson squeezes eyes shut. Logan jumps over the table, grabs Chuck by the throat, slams him against the wall. Chuck gurgles, claws at Logan's arm. "Don't push your luck, Chuckles," he growls. "We can take care of ourselves." Gives Chuck a shake. "/'And' you." Lets go, takes a step back. Chuck wheezes, rubs his throat— Logan waits— —lunges— —ducks Chuck's punch, knocks his legs from under him— —hits the ground hard, tries to roll clear— —kicks him once in the gut— —curls up, gasping. —waits. Chuck lurches to his feet, throws another, wilder haymaker— Jackson steps between them, deflects Chuck's fist, and tows Logan from the canteen by the elbow. Back in their rooms, Jackson perches on the couch. "Did you have to do that?" "He shouldnt've taken that shot." Logan settles beside him. Jackson sighs. "He doesn't know." Logan huffs. "He'll try you again." "'course." "Reminds me of you, a little." Logan sniffs. "I knew better than to pick a fight I couldn't win at his age." Jackson rubs his face, mumbles, "That's why we're here." Logan winces. Takes a deep breath and lets his head fall back. Category:Ficlet Category:Logan Category:Logan fights Category:Jackson Category:Chuck Category:Sydney Shatterdome Category:Jones' quarters Category:Logan (ficlet) Category:Jackson (ficlet) Category:Chuck (ficlet) Category:Canteen